Here's to You, Ms Garfield
by AlternateShadesofBlue
Summary: Asking an actress to roleplay is serious business. An episode tag, going home with Donna and Harvey after their date. Pretty much fanservice fun


When they step out of the restaurant, Harvey links his hand in hers. The air is cool, he's casual, and she's heady, a bit from the wine and a bit from the way his lips had lingered just below her earlobe as he met her exiting the restroom moments before. His request for Ricky Garfield's mom role play have been replaying on loop in her brain. Imagining a young and cocksure version of him. A bit overconfident and more stamina than his roaming hands and eager tongue could keep up with.

She feels the rush between her legs, and she knows tonight she's in trouble. His hand rests low on her back and she impulsively pulls him down for a kiss, taking him by surprise and giving him quick hints, her nails scratching the nape of his neck, and the other fisting his shirt low in the front. She parts her lips for the reaction of his tongue in response to her cues, pulling him in further to coax more.

This, is eager but skilled Harvey. Not the younger version of him. And something about that has lit a flame.

They slip into the back when Ray pulls up, sitting close, his hand resting on her thigh. He's breathing in her hair, lips tickling the edge of her hairline just behind her lobe. She almost doesn't have the patience for games tonight, but he's made bounds of effort so far in their relationship and she's not about to turn down the role of his temptress.

"You said Ricky was new in town. How long did you know him?"

He pulls back, a brow cocked in interest. "A couple years," he answers curiously.

She settles back with the info, trying to decide how much she wanted to know and how much she should create.

His fingertips brush a silent message, skimming higher, then smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

She keeps an eye on Ray, aware how much the man must read unintentionally. "So you were legal? Eventually."

"I'm not sure I was worried about that, but yes." His eyes are narrowed and he's watching her.

She keeps focused ahead. Ms. Garfield wouldn't play easy.

* * *

"You're quiet," he says on the elevator ride up.

She steps in front of him, hand flat on his chest. "I'm getting in character."

His mouth falls open and she watches as his throat bobs.

"I didn't realize you'd…"

"What?" she challenges. "Take this seriously?"

He swallows again.

"You forget the stage _is_ my calling. Any special requests?"

His head shakes lightly. "I have a feeling you've got this better than my imagination does."

"Good. Now you're going to go inside your penthouse and change into something more in character. The clothes make the man, as you know. And you better be ready to be eighteen again."

"Already working on it," he says with a smirky grin that has her lips part as her gaze darts down.

She swirls a finger toward..._there_. "No touching when you get alone. You could get caught."

"I'm not sure that's a bad thing." He's biting the inside of his cheek.

She blushes, thanks to pale skin.

They reach his floor.

He pauses at his door. "You sure you don't want to wait out here? You could arrive in five minutes."

"You think you own the penthouse in this fantasy? This is my world. And I'll be using you. But your clothes are inside. Curtain call in five minutes."

He nods, and the movement is a bit eager and nervous, like the race she's feeling in her own chest.

While he heads to his room she lowers the lighting and pours herself some wine, already drunk enough on the plan and her glasses from earlier but this was to help resettle.

He arrives soon after, in a pair of gray sweatpants and a Batman T-shirt. She puts her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle and the bite on the inside of his cheek gives away his hard look isn't serious.

"Hi Ms. Garfield." The sing-song in his voice made it hard to continue.

"You made it."

"Where's Ricky?" he asks with a humor in his tone.

"Away at his dad's for the weekend."

"Oh. Did you need me for something?"

"I did. My place is so cold and empty. I don't like being alone so I asked your mother if I could have you."

"Oh, you'll definitely have me," he says with a smirk.

She slaps him in the chest, hitting the Batman logo. "Stay in character!"

He rolls his eyes. "Fine."

"You think you could manage all night with me?" She glances up at his perfectly coiffed hair and runs her fingers through it, gripping tightly and mussing it up in every direction until she's biting a lip at the boyish sight.

"All night," he says with a slight breathiness. He shifts his feet slightly.

She's proud. He's no thespian but he's doing nervous and aroused well. "Would you like some wine?"

"Uh..."

She offers her half-full glass. "I won't tell if you won't. Have a sip of mine."

He stares intently at her while he drinks. Now-Harvey would have her legs around him in seconds with the look he's giving her. She can tell he's struggling to hold back.

Taking pity, she takes a glance below his waist. "You seem to have a problem."

His jaw clenches and he visibly oogles her chest, setting it down on the counter beside him with a clink.

She spins around. "I think I'm ready to get into something more comfortable. Could you help me with my zipper?" She looks over her shoulder and juts out her ass just enough to brush against him and he groans.

"Donna," he warns.

"Ms. Garfield," she scolds.

"_Donna," _he warns again, this time with all humor left.

He gets the zipper with some challenge and he spins her back to him.

"Eager?" she teases.

She's met with his eyes the darkest she's ever seen them and her stomach flips. She swallows, losing character for a second herself and leans in until her mouth finds his neck. Sucking a trail close to his Adam's apple she can feel it practically vibrating against her tongue. She nestles in the concave of his neck and jaw while her hand skirts down his abdomen, slipping under his waistband and having to stretch her arm to find him throbbing and ready. She strokes him over his underwear and feels his hips jut forward for more contact.

She pulls her hand out, stepping half a step back. He grabs the sash hanging from the buckle on her throat, gently but enough so she feels it, studying her cues and signaling his own. He wants her naked. She works at the unlooping until it's free and she helps the fabric fall from her shoulders and pool to the floor.

He takes her in, dragging his eyes over her like he was high and she was the hit. He's licking his lips, teeth then pinching his bottom one when his eyes center on the lace between her legs.

If they're burning into her she feels the heat.

She steps away from her dress, close enough to him her laced chest brushes his. She helps him out of the T-shirt because she wants to see him naked for what she's about to do. He tosses it somewhere to the side never leaving his intent on her.

Her fingers loop on each side of his waistband, squatting down as she works him free of sweats and underwear simultaneously. His dick pops out as soon as it's free and she wants to make a Ms. Garfield quip about taking care of things but they're way beyond that game now. She's all action, when she steadies him in her hand while her tongue licks his length repeatedly like an ice pop.

By the time her mouth engulfs him, staring up to meet his eyes, his fingers are gripping the edge of his counter. He's mussed from above, definitely dazed and boyish while she's converging years of skill. Long strokes with her tongue's aide in torture, even and devilish suction. He feels right against her mouth. Full and needing, swollen between her stretched lips.

Imagining young-Harvey picturing a woman that reminded him of her, cock in hand and stroking enmeshes in the strokes of her mouth. She's always assisted in his path to fulfillment, never quite so intimately as bringing him to the edge.

He's not lasting and the thought makes her wetter. He likes this, her being the heir to his fantasies. She's using hands to fondle and stroke and he lets out a low groan. She meets his eyes again when his free hand threads in her hair, stopping her motion. It's the signal he's almost past return, and she gives him one slow suck as she pulls off.

Quick or drawn-out. And she knows which one Ms. Garfield would choose. He offers his hand, helping her back on her now fatigued legs and wobbly heels.

An arm scoops from behind her back, pulling her flush against him so his mouth can explore hers. His tongue instantly darts between her lips, exploratory and possessive. His hand fumbles for the back clasp of her bra and she has to stifle a giggle. He's either playing the role well or he's sloppy from how affected he's feeling. He manages to get it free and flings it and rather than his usual smooth foreplay, his mouth is instantly all over her chest. He's holding her steady as the force of his mouth presses her back. He's devouring a nipple, taking plenty between his lips while his tongue flicks out patterns against the rapidly hard tip.

She's aching between her legs, almost painfully so. Fingers are pulling at the lace of her panties, roughly tugging them down her thighs. She helps get them the rest of the way, his mouth only parting from her chest when it's forced to.

He's panting while he stares. Lingering drags at all her most intimate places.

She begins to step out of her heels and he shakes his head. "Leave them."

It's a command she'll take. She closes the space between them, smoothing out his ruffled hair, thumb brushing over the sweat beading above his brow.

Her breasts feel good pressed into his skin, bare stomachs brushing on each inhale. Suddenly he's gripping the backs of her legs until she's lifted, legs wrapped around him. He spins her around and sets her on his countertop.

The hard surface is cold on her cheeks. "Harvey."

"Hmm?" His hands smooth up and down her thighs, distracted and looking heady as he ogles her chest.

"Don't keep a woman waiting."

His eyes narrow and then his mouth is on her neck, alternating nips, licks, and suction until she's having a hard time not falling back. He coaxes her that way, disengaging his mouth enough to land low on her stomach. He's spreading her legs wide, displaying her for him, placing kisses at the apex of her thighs and abdomen, teasing and making her nearly buck for more.

His fingertips brush along her slit, lightly against her clit and lower. She's slick and they slip easily back and forth. She's nearly hissing from the contact, sensitive and nearly raw with need.

Before she can scold to get on with it he plunges a single digit and she gasps. It's not full enough but the intrusion still hits where she needs it. He watches her face while he works a few strokes, then adds a second.

She feels full and she's so aroused she thinks if he hit just right she could come undone from this alone. But then his mouth returns. A light kiss on her clit at first and then he adds suction and a flick of his tongue. She's throbbing and it's almost too much. She grips her fingers in his hair, guiding him slower because her sensitivity is at its peak.

He's smiling against her and she only knows from the crinkles around his eyes that remind her this man is _not_ eighteen anymore and knows how to dismantle her with multiple parts of his body. He's increasing his speed, tongue and fingers working in sync as her belly feels the first waves crashing her up against the edge. It's a battle, the fear of free-falling and all control lost, against the trust of him watching and catching her at the other side. She'd never win the side of playing safe at the reign of his control.

The grip of each surge tightens from her stomach to her thighs, pulling in tight and letting ease. She's abandoned all modesty by the end, his sexual plaything in the wake of his near-fulfilled fantasy. He kisses any expanse of skin available as her breathing just begins to even, then soon he's pulling at her knees to coax her toward him.

Her bare and dewy skin sticks to the surface, but she manages to shimmy closer, resting on her elbows. He teases her with his cock, rubbing it against nerves already on high alert from his mouth and finger's undoing.

He leans forward and kisses her, the taste of her on his lips, met quickly with him plunging inside. She lives for the intrusion, all him, all familiar. Several decades of a man, only a few unknown between the one that fantasized doing this with a woman something like her, and that day that they first met. She didn't get the fresh version of him, but she had all the years in between. Wanting her now. Only her. Years of experience meshed together to pleasure her, focus on her, make everything either ever wanted come true.

How she never noticed how perfect this counter was for his height she'll never know. She half considers mentioning it but with the way his thrusts are hitting all thoughts are leaving at rapid speed. He adjusts her thighs so they're resting against his chest, and the angle change causes her to moan with each impact. He's driving her to the edge and she's long past caring if the young version of him could get her there because this version certainly can.

Hands knead at her breasts and pinch her nipples. She's somehow ended on her back because angling up became too much. She's building quickly again, the look of him, the feel of him overtaking her while they continuously join together at rapid pace.

He mentions something about her being close and she nods. Words long replaced by the pants of her breath and the sounds escaping she no longer controls. Timing had never been their strong suit but somehow nights they often met perfection. She feels the approach and this time it's slower, dropping her down and pulling her up at will. The contractions against him are now transcendent, giving her his everything and leaving her needing to never let go. He's quick behind her, erratic thrusts until she feels his end, resting inside her. Stilling, never wanting to part.

He pulls her up to him, the side of his face cradling against her chest while their breaths even. She holds him close, brushing fingers in his hair. This is his routine, every time. Like he needs a moment for the Harvey Specter lost in the plunge to meet back up with the one that's landed with them together. It hits her hard and steals her breath. The realization that he needs her to settle, and that they'd wasted so many years where neither of them could find that place.

With a single kiss to her shoulder he's careful as he helps her down. She steps out of her heels, then begins to collect their clothes but he motions for her to stop.

"Leave them."

She raises a brow setting them on the couch. "We should at least clean that counter."

"I'll get it in the morning. Come to bed with me."

She smirks. "I'm the one that requested that of you, remember?"

"How could I forget." He pulls her by the hand, planting a kiss on the side of her cheek. "You seduced me, Ms. Paulsen."

She turns to him, surprised. "What happened to Ms. Garfield?"

He mashes his lips together, shaking his head. "I met someone hotter."

* * *

_A/N's: So, I wasn't going to write anything until I updated a couple of fics, but this was pure friend/fan service and I figured it couldn't hurt to get this out quickly. It's not super polished and doesn't have much depth, but this was just something fun I did for a friend and didn't even intend on sharing wide at first. Hope you still enjoy!_

_As Suits is coming to a close, each fic gets a little bittersweet. I don't know how things will go afterward with all of us, but I can't help but be blown away by what this fandom has given me in terms of appreciation, confidence, and love. I credit so much of my writing to all of you, and especially to mieh, Bew0G, and Kirby who have been cheering me and sometimes dragging me(hi Elle) through the process. To help me so much with something that I literally can't seem to cut out of me, is beyond what words could describe. Thank you to them, who have made it the best part of fanfiction writing, and to all my other friends(readers!) that have been beyond lovely and beautiful. Each and every one of you mean so much. I'll keep saying it probably, because I keep meaning it. Love from the bottom on my overemotional heart, Blue_


End file.
